Glimpses of Death
by annsan
Summary: There are many ways that an NCIS agent can end up dead...in here are scenarios for the demise of a certain rookie agent. This is not a story for ziva lovers
1. Chapter 1

'_They're called *orders*, Tony…'_

She'd broken cover too soon, disobeying a direct order from her temporary team leader to move in on her own. She heard the lead agent yelling at her over the comlink, demanding that she return to her position until he gave the order to move in, but Ziva snorted to herself. She'd been trained by Mossad operatives since she'd been able to be taught. Had been practicing many of her skills since before she'd begun learning English. Had also been allowed by Gibbs to use many of her weapons and was frequently brought in because of her special skills. Now she was being told to obey the order of an agent who she barely knew and he obviously understood little about her background and what she brought to the team. Muttering to herself about why the director had thought that moving her away from team Gibbs was a good idea, she inched the rear door to the trailer open, intending to slip inside quietly to disarm their suspect.

In the front, lead agent Ted Corbin watched the shadows dancing throughout the trailer. He'd already issued a terse order for the rookie agent to cease any advancement and return to her position but didn't expect that it would be obeyed. He'd been warned by the director that Ziva David, although trained by the Mossad, seemed bent on usually doing whatever *she* felt was right rather than obey her team lead. Corbin's senior field agent had rejoined him just prior to Ziva breaking cover and had told him that he'd spotted leftover wire and other electrical supplies in a nearby dumpster. Corbin had agreed with Dwayne's belief that the trailer or something inside it was rigged to blow and wanted to ensure that his team made it back to the yard safely.

Repeating his order for Ziva to return to position into his comlink, he growled in frustration as he started to stand, hoping to provide a cover for the obstinate younger woman. How *had* Gibbs, of all people, put up with her for as long as he had?

As if reading his boss' mind, Dwayne, who had risen with him, spoke. "I don't remember her questioning him quite as much, Sir."

Hearing a loud tick, Corbin whirled and pushed Dwayne down, barely hitting the ground before an explosion caused the trailer to erupt into a bright orange fireball, instantly incinerating whatever and whomever had been inside.


	2. Chapter 2

Ziva yanked harder on the handle of the door she had just come through a few minutes prior, not understanding why it wouldn't open. She hadn't locked it when she'd entered the ladies' room to relieve herself. But now it not only appeared locked, it almost looked as if it was sealed. There were no wisps of light or air filtering through the space between the door and the wall.

Taking a deep breath, she backed away from the door to consider the problem and possible solutions. It wasn't something she was truly nervous about. Being Mossad-trained, she'd been in far worse situations than being stuck in the bathroom. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her cell phone, pondering for a minute who to call. Gibbs had been headed up to a meeting with the director so he was out; Tony…no, she'd never live it down if she called him. That left McGee. Scrolling down to his number, she hit the send button and lifted the phone to ear. Hearing nothing but dead air in her ear, Ziva groaned and peered at the device's screen as she assumed that the call had not been placed after all. But McGee's name and number were there along with the little bars that indicated the call was in progress.

"McGee, can you hear me?" She asked as soon as she had put the phone back to her ear. "Tony, I swear if you have swiped Tim's phone again, you need to give it back to him *now*."

"_Why do you always blame Tony for what is wrong in your life?"_

The words had come from behind her but Ziva had been sure she'd been the only one in the restroom. She whirled, hand dropping to immediately pull her side arm. She'd been correct; she was alone.

"I swear DiNozzo, if this is yet another of your childish twinks."

"_It's pranks, Ziva. But then you knew that so why you would intentionally say the wrong word is beyond me."_

"Who are you? Where are you?" Ziva whirled completely around as she pointed her weapon at strategic places.

"_Your firearm is of no use in here."_

Ziva felt her fingers grow lax and watched as the gun dropped loudly to the floor. Surely someone would hear the noise and come free her.

"_No one out there heard that, Ziva. This is our time."_

"What do you mean? Show yourself so that I know what I am up against."

"_You know us, Ziva. You've utilized our home many a time to push your agenda with that young man you work with. Never giving him a moment's peace and following him everywhere – even when he goes to the bathroom. Tsk…weren't you raised better than that?"_

"I don't…" Ziva's words trailed off as she stared at the toilet that was somehow peering at her from beyond a stall door. 'This is not possible,' she thought to herself.

"_Quite the contrary, Ziva. Anything is possible in our world."_

"Who are you? I demand to see you *now*."

"_Very well then. If I must…"_

Ziva heard a noise behind her and whirled around again, gaping at the urinal that was slowly advancing towards her. But…but this was the *ladies* room!

"_Now Ziva, since when has gender made a difference to you. You've barged into my home how many times without checking to see which of the men was in there."_

Ziva backed up against the wall and nearly shrieked as the two electric hand dryers suddenly pressed against her side.

"_You must listen to him, M'am. Yes, you must."_

Ziva yanked herself away. This was madness. It had to be madness. Maybe if she splashed some water on her face she'd wake up from her bizarre dream. Nearly running to the sink, she turned both faucets on fully. Without looking down, she cupped her hands under the stream and splashed the liquid on her face. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she nearly screamed as she saw blood dripping down her hands and arms, dotting her face as well. She wanted to pound her fist against something but found she was unable to curl her fingers in. As she opened her mouth to scream again, a small trickle of blood appeared at her lip before running down her chin.

NO! She reached out her hands, placing them on the mirror and dragging her bloody fingers over the glass as she sunk down to the ground.

"_You should have heeded our warning, Ziva. Playing with the rules of our world will never end well for the likes of you."_

Hearing noises from outside the door, the urinal floated over the body of the young woman as it melted back into the wall, returning to its rightful place in the other bathroom. The toilet moved back to remount itself in its stall. The dryers' motors quieted down and the water flowing from the sink stopped. All was calm and normal when the maintenance man entered mere minutes later and discovered the body of Ziva David lying motionless in a pool of blood. Not even Ducky would be able to determine the cause of death no matter how he tried. For in the world of underground bathroom, the urinal was always the king.


	3. Chapter 3

Sitting outside the Parisian coffee shop, Ziva sniffed the air appreciatively as she looked around. Being that she was former Mossad and now training to be an NCIS agent, one could easily assume that her stealth skills allowed her to appear to be just another tourist as she took in any possible threats to herself and her partner. However having had the late shift for guarding their witness before they flew back to the States, Ziva found herself incredibly tired and unable to focus as sharply as she liked to appear to. She even jumped a bit, startled by the sudden appearance of a hand coming around her back. She turned to glare her displeasure at her partner but, as always, found she nearly got lost in those bright green eyes of his. _If only he'd get brown contact lens. Brown eyes would look so perfect on him. And maybe if he adopted a different type of style of dress…._

"Ziva! Here – take this, already!"

"Honestly, Tony, you could have just put the cups down." She sighed as she wrapped slender fingers around the lidded cup he was holding just above the table.

"It's crowded here. Didn't want the table to be jostled and the cup to spill." He quirked an eyebrow at her. "You look like you really need the coffee."

She sniffed at the lid opening before taking a cautious sip of the too hot beverage. As the flavor exploded over her tongue, around her mouth and down her throat, she was reminded yet again of why she preferred European coffee to the insipid brew normally served at home in D.C. Ziva mentally sighed and contemplated a retort about how she looked but decided instead to just enjoy her beverage. Until she noticed that Tony had not sat down opposite her with a cup of his own.

"Chair's on the other side of the table, Tony. Unless you really *do* prefer to be close to me."

DiNozzo rolled his eyes and thought of innumerable comments he could and really wanted to make. But he'd promised himself that he'd make an effort to get along with Ziva once he realized she was still alive in Somalia several months ago. While that hadn't stopped him from throwing out an occasional barbed remark, he'd done his best to not snark at her as much as he'd had before. He truly was glad she wasn't dead since he'd thought there would have been seriously ramifications for the mental health of the team. But he was seriously sick of her heavy handed flirting and smug surety. He was sure he could see her remaking him in her mind to fit whatever image she felt he should be.

"I'm headed over *there, Zee-vah." He replied as he pointed a finger several door down to another building with tables and chairs also placed outside.

"But Tony! This is *Paris*." She quickly lowered her voice and eyes. "I thought maybe we could, you know, have a romantic moment or two while we enjoyed the coffee. Why I remember Jenny telling me about the times her and Gibbs…"

Tony cut her off. "Jenny's dead, Ziva. You aren't her and I'm not the boss. I'm going over *there* to get some coffee for myself. I'll be back."

Turning his back, he moved away before she could make a comment or reach for him.

Ziva's fingers tightened reflexively around the cup and she had to force herself to not crush it with her super ninja strength. He would understand her wrath when he returned to her. And she knew he would. Tony had been *hers* since the moment she'd lain eyes on him in the rain while she wondered how she'd be able to gain his boss' trust. Still he needed to understand her wrath. She brought the cup back to her delicately, sexy lips to drink deeply of the rich beverage.

As she swallowed, she felt a lump begin to grown in throat as the liquid refused to slide down to her stomach. The taste filled her mouth, rapidly turning from something she loved to a bitter, dark taste that spelled doom and death. The cup fell from her hands as her fingers stabbed at her throat. In the distance, she heard the locals speaking, some to each other and a couple to her as her distress became more evident. She fought herself to answer them. To even understand them. She spoke ten languages after all and didn't comprehend why a language that came to her so easily should sound so very foreign.

Her chest burned as her feet and legs grew tingly and then coldly numb. She felt her strength slowly leave her body as consciousness followed. Her distress blocked out the rising panic around her. Muffled, garbled words in a language she suddenly couldn't understand were the last things she would ever hear.

Exiting the other coffee shop, Tony raised the large cup and took a deep drink. The sweetener and flavored cream had been added to his specifications making the beverage just the way he liked it. Turning towards the table where he'd left his partner, he saw Ziva's too still body and the large crowd that had gathered around her. His instant reaction was to reach for his cell phone, pushing the extra buttons that would connect his call. He raised it to his ear and did not have to wait long until it was answered.

"Boss, we've got a problem."


	4. Chapter 4

** Dedicated to GPP – for the ideas & inspiration

Ziva exited the elevator, juggling her bag, a large cup and small, white bag holding her breakfast. She hurried over to her team's area, anxious to get in, hopefully, before anyone else. She'd been able to at least appear to have fallen asleep at her desk while studying for her citizenship test several times over the last couple of weeks. Granted it hadn't completely gotten the reaction she'd been hoping for. She'd expected Tony to at least be somewhat happy by her diligence and burgeoning knowledge. His reactions, the teases, borderline insults and somewhat preachy speeches, had not been what she was looking for. McGee had reacted more with the quiet, happy pride she'd been expecting from Tony. Whereas Tony….she couldn't quite figure out what was wrong with the man who'd been the very personification of her knight in shining armor.

She walked over to circle around towards her desk chair still quietly pondering the problem of a co-worker who, by now, should have been much, much more. She bent down to put away her bag and drop her meal on the desk, pleased at the smoothness of the motion. Before her mind to go to that dark place of simple, human self-conflict, she clamped down on her thoughts. They wouldn't serve her well and she simply forbade her mind from thinking them. She'd been stronger than that her whole life and wasn't about to succumb to doubt now.

As she slowly rose from her task, her eyes caught on a small, rather plain package off to the side of her desk. Hhhhmmm….interesting. This was something new as she was sure it had not been there the previous night. She glanced around warily, reaching for the small item at the same time. Had she still be in Mossad the package would have been instant cause of alarm if not a full scale evacuation of the premises. But this was only NCIS and her life was not in any danger here.

Fingers encircling the plain, smooth black box, she gently shook it and heard a quiet rattle inside. She glanced up quickly, carefully examining each of the men's desks in her area. Gibbs' desk was neat as always with no sign of the tell-tale coffee cup indicating the man was in the building. McGee's desk and chair were too properly put together for the younger man to at work already. Her eyes swung over to the desk across from hers. She could never easily tell if Tony was in or not without carefully perusing his whole work area. It should be easier than it was; this *was* Tony after all. It wasn't like he was that deep that she'd have issues figuring him out. She'd understood all that he was when she wrote the dossier on him for Ari so many years ago – or so she thought. Every once in a while, she just wasn't as she as she had been. Sometimes he looked and acted like he hated her. Even though he'd been at the forefront of the plan that had saved her from Saleem, there were flashes of fire in his eyes at times when she least expected it. Brief glimpses of a dislike that was rooted deeply in his being.

Ziva pushed away the dark thoughts, refusing to allow her mind to dwell on them. She glanced down at the small box in her hand, opting to focus on the small gift instead. Sliding a finger between the box and its cover, she carefully raised it off and set it down on the desk as she eyed the black velvet box within. She didn't bother to lift it out but instead reached in to raise the lid, anxious to reveal its contents.

"ooohhhhh!" She quietly breathed her surprise at the shiny, sparkly silver necklace that gleamed around the deep dark velvet. Her fingertip reached out to gently nudge it, unable to believe how perfect it was.

Fumbling fingers reached to free the necklace from its confinement. She looked it over carefully, noticing how more modern the particular design was in contrast to the traditional one she'd previously worn. Turning over the flat, solid pendant, she peered closer at the back before allowing a small smile to dance over her lips. As she reached around her neck and under her hair to close the clasp, the cool metal fell against her skin and she couldn't stop her shiver. Despite her new allegiances, it had simply felt wrong to not be wearing a Star of David necklace since her return. She hadn't wanted to know what had happened to her original one. She'd attached its existence to memories she preferred to bury. Upon her return and application to become a full-fledged NCIS agent, she'd thought of buying a new one for herself but had decided that she really preferred to somehow get one from Tony. It would serve as further proof of the feelings she was certain he had for her.

Now it was here – lying against her throat – and she just *knew*. There was no gift tag anywhere on the box and she didn't see any card near where it had sat on her desk. Yet the absence of proof of the giver's identity did not lessen her surety over who it had been. She knew deep down in her soul that it had come from Tony. After all, hadn't they talked about presents and hadn't he hinted, even teased, about having purchased something for her? Yes, she was sure that this necklace was from Tony. Somehow he had snuck back into the office to surprise her with it. She glanced over at the still empty desk, wondering how she would thank him appropriately.

By the time she was seated at her desk, Ziva had already thought of what was really the only sensible plan. She'd follow Tony to the bathroom at some point to thank him properly in private. It was a plan that Ziva was never able to put into action. McGee and Tony arrived at the Navy Yard at the same time, riding up in the elevator snarking at each other like two brothers. The doors opened but their way was blocked by both Gibbs and Vance before either could do more than step out of the car.

"Boss, what…"

"Director Vance…"

"Tony! McGee!"

Before either man could full turn, both were virtually body slammed by the ever-emotional and currently highly upset Goth lab tech. The three were suddenly herded off to the side as Gibbs attempted to make room for a completely covered stretcher to be wheeled into the still waiting elevator.

Vance stopped the door from closing with his hand as he spoke to the two men in the elevator. "Take the body to our morgue but do not open the bag until Dr. Jordan Hampton arrives to perform the autopsy. Neither Dr. Mallard or Mr. Palmer are permitted to work on this body."

Gibbs meanwhile was eerily focused on his team. Tony looked from a clearly upset Abby over to a Gibbs who seemed suddenly different and then back again. Something had happened and it wasn't good. He met the blue-eyed gaze of his boss, a question in his eyes and his gut churning with dread.

"Tony, Tim…"

DiNozzo couldn't help but tense at the use of their first names. Gibbs just did not *do* that unless something was really wrong.

"We don't know how yet but Ziva….well, she's dead."

"How?" McGee asked.

"We won't know until Dr. Hampton…"

"Garroted, Timmy, she was garroted by some chain…think it was new or something because I saw a jewelry box on her desk before…"

Down in the morgue, the two agents who had accompanied the body bag stood off to the side conversing quietly as they waited for Dr. Hampton to arrive. Their discussion topic would soon be fodder for the Yard's gossip machine, as all good tidbits eventually were. But for now it was something that was just between them and they struggled to make sense of what they'd seen. The first to have discovered the body, both men had been shocked at their discovery and by the speedy demise of a woman most of the agents feared. Neither had tried to remove the thin silver chain from where it was embedded in her neckline, knowing that any ministrations would have been far too late to help Ziva. Glancing around, the older man had noticed a small charm lying at the tips of the now still fingers and had picked it up, carefully placing it in a bag. He'd looked at it carefully before either Vance or Gibbs had come over and was now commenting on it to his partner.

"I don't get it. What does it mean?"

The other man shrugged. "Can't see us ever finding out either. Not that it makes any sense though."

"You sure you read it right?"

"Definitely….the back of the pendant wasn't smeared the way the front was. The engraving clearly said 'for the princess'.


	5. Chapter 5

Jetlagged…

A sudden spurt of turbulence had the large aircraft seemingly bouncing in the air and the passengers scurrying to their seats as the flight crew announced the need to fasten the seatbelts. Tony and Ziva readjusted their seating arrangements so that one could still keep an eye on their charge while the other had control of the assassin now in their custody.

"Ziva, you stay here with Nora and I'll go in the back and keep an eye on our suspect."

"Tony, I really don't see the point of continuing…."

"Ziva, just once, could you do what you're told and act like the probationary agent you are, instead of seeming to know better than me?"

"Harrumph…I do not see why you persist in using…"

Tony glared, his face losing all of its normal expression becoming as cold as Ziva had ever seen it.

"Very well then." Ziva replied.

"Nora," Tony turned his attention to the woman they'd been protecting. "Agent David will stay with you in the seats we were originally assigned. I will see you again once the plane lands."

Ziva brushed by Tony as she moved to take Nora's arm and lead her towards a pair of seats. Rolling his eyes at the full body contact she'd instigated, DiNozzo turned & strode back to where they'd secured the flight attendant. Looking over at the woman, DiNozzo quickly schooled his expression to avoid letting her know that he was amused by sneer and derision blatantly readable on her face.

"You know, Special Agent Man, I do have a job that I need to do on this flight."

Tony nodded. "Should have thought about that before you decided that murder paid more than what you were hired to do."

The senior field agent kept his face a careful mask as he watched the 'stewardess' yank at the cuffs in disgust and irritation before she quieted down again.

***

Sitting in her seat, Nora was restless. The flight, although mostly uneventful, now seemed to be going on for far too long for her. She wanted to land so she could get off the plane and walk into the arms of her fiancé. She hadn't seen him for so long. Hoping to distract herself, she turned to Ziva. The agent had been quiet since they'd split up and sat down. Now Nora was hoping to engage her conversation, maybe share some of her own dreams of marriage with the woman and hear her plans for man that Ziva so obviously loved.

"Your partner, he seemed rather cross earlier."

"That is just Tony. Lately he seems irritated when I prove myself to be better than he at something."

"But you love him anyway, yes?"

Ziva smiled briefly but did not voice an answer. It didn't seem to matter to Nora.

"Are you sure he loves you in return? Because my dear would never take the attitude with me that he took with you."

Before Ziva could reply, the plane banked sharply with no warning, initiating a variety of verbal reactions from the passengers. Those who had experience flying could tell that even though the plane had been righted, it was now losing altitude steadily. Back in the rear compartment, the stewardess glanced across the small space.

"This plane's in trouble." She whispered fiercely.

DiNozzo didn't answer but nodded his head in agreement. He wondered if he should move to check on Ziva, but knew he didn't trust their suspect enough to leave her alone even if this small space. As the senior field agent, it was Tony's job to make sure both of their charges were accounted for and secured. He knew that Ziva was more than capable of keeping an eye on Nora since the danger was passed. Ziva would have most likely preferred to be back her in his place. He just couldn't have withstood being forced to listen to the insipid, romantic blather that seemed to endlessly flow from Nora's mouth earlier. When they got back to NCIS, he'd have to take a moment to speak with Ziva about why she had insisted on going along with those inaccurate observations.

The plane seemed to bounce in mid-air as it hit a pocket of turbulence. Being in the back, both Tony and the stewardess heard the whir of the landing gear as it descended suddenly. Both turned to the window, surprised, as neither could see or recognize anything that looked remotely like Washington DC landscape underneath them.

The speaker system came to life. "Ladies and gentlemen, we've encountered a difficulty that will require us to make an emergency landing immediately even though we're only a couple of hours away from our final destination. We've radioed the tower at Dulles and received instructions from them. We'll be landing in Wilmington shortly and will have representatives on the ground to assist you."

Tony remained quiet, choosing not to verbalize his frustration over the abrupt change in plans. The other passengers were doing enough groaning and moaning anyway. He needed to focus on what they'd need to do once they landed.. His mind racing through various options once they deplaned. He knew that his most important step was to call Gibbs immediately however he wanted to have other plans thought through so that they could continue back to DC as soon as possible. As he wondered if Nora would have plans of her own for returning to DC or if he'd still need to make arrangements for her, the plane suddenly seemed to pick up speed.

Several rows up, Nora had gone from upset and frustrated over the diversion to near hysterics as she realized that there was something wrong. Ziva attempted to calm the high-strung woman at the same time she encouraged her to assume the crash position that the flight attendants were encouraging the passengers to do as a precaution.

***

Having received calls from both the FBI as well as the local police, Cynthia had transferred both directly in to Director Vance before picking up her handset again and dialing an internal number. She braced herself for the near curt greeting she'd soon be hearing surprised at a voice she hadn't expected.

"Tim, this is Cynthia. We've received word of an incident with an inbound flight…"

"Are they alright?" McGee wasn't sure he liked the vague details he was hearing from Cynthia and reached over to grab the remote from Gibbs' desk.

"I haven't heard details yet, Tim. But as soon as Director Vance is done with the phone call he's on, I'm sure he'll be down to brief you."

McGee had been flicking channels on the plasma screen before finding a report that appeared to focus on a troubled plane. His eyes watched the screen in horror as he tried to figure out what the reporter was saying at the same time he listened to Cynthia.

"Cynthia, we know already…Just found it on the plasma."

"I'm sorry, Tim." There was more she wanted to say but soon realized that Tim McGee had picked up a very annoying habit from his boss and had already disconnected the call.

***

McGee stared in horror as the cameraman panned the crash site. The reporter was droning on about how the crash was truly miraculous with a minimal loss of life despite the plane breaking into several large sections as it missed the runway at the Wilmington Airport and went down. He turned, reaching blindly for the phone, wondering if he should call Abby, Ducky or Gibbs first. Or maybe try Tony's cell phone or Ziva's. Before he could do anything, the elevator dinged in the background and the doors opened to admit both Gibbs and Ducky to the floor.

"Boss…" McGee glanced over the other man, noting the sling that now prevalent. A rush of guilt flooded him. Guilt and trepidation. Tony would kill him for allowing the boss to get hurt on his watch. The thought disappeared as fast as it entered his mind. Wait! Tony couldn't kill him because he didn't even know if the other agent was dead or alive at the moment.

"Watching TV, McGee?"

"Oh my, that looks horrible!"

"Umm, Boss,…"

The elevator sounded again and there was the sound of heavy boots running towards the bullpen.

"Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs! Say it isn't so, please!" Black streaks were already visible on Abby's cheeks as she turned to fling herself at her Silver Fox, the person who always righted all the wrongs in her world.

Gibbs turned to the side, hoping to cushion his arm from the blow of Abby in near panic mode slamming into him. Ducky, fortunately stepped between them and gathered the upset young woman into his arms. He crooned softly to her about how Gibbs would just fine.

"Wait! Gibbs is hurt!" She pulled away, confused, looking to prove to herself what she heard Ducky saying. "NO!! First Tony and Ziva and now Gibbs!!!"

Gibbs turned towards the plasma screen, knowing that the answers lie there. "McGee! What's going on?"

Swiftly, McGee brought them up to date on what Cynthia had said as he raised the volume on the screen so they could hear the reporter's story.

***

Hours later, the team remained in the bullpen, along with Abby, Ducky and Palmer. Tony and McGee and both chosen to lean against their desks while Palmer had taken a seat at Tony's and Ducky was hovering between Ziva's desk and Gibbs' area, staring at the sling the lead agent wore. Abby was still glued to Tony's side as she had been from the moment he arrived back in the office from the crash site. Gibbs sat on the edge of his as he stared at his senior field agent. This was supposed to be a milk run, nothing that could cause as much damage to his team as it had. Yet they'd lost Ziva. She'd been killed on impact as she'd attempted to protect both herself and Nora as the plane went down. He himself had been injured when he pushed McGee out of the way of the speeding car when they'd learned it was Nora's fiancé that had been attempting to have her killed. Greed over love rearing its ugly head yet again. They could very nearly have lost Tony as well but had been lucky that he'd only sustained a broken wrist and dislocated shoulder.

"Anyone hear anything about the identities of the other casualties?"

Ducky turned his attention to McGee. "Why yes. Outside of our dear Ziva and that poor Nora, it appears there were two other casualties. Two gentlemen from what I've heard. One was listed as a a journalist for some magazine while the other an Australian gentleman. They were sitting together and were both on a connecting flight to California. It appears from my friend told me that they were in the entertainment industry."

Gibbs intervened then, encouraging his people to go home and rest. The deaths of Nora and Ziva would be ruled accidental by the Wilmington coroner. The other two fatalities, the Australian show producers and the reporter, were really none of the business of his team. He needed to get Tony to go home and take some pain pills so he could rest and recover. Pain pills didn't seem like a bad idea either – especially if they allowed him to sleep and forget about his shoulder.


	6. Chapter 6

**kudos for this chapter goes to the folks over on the Anti-haven thread of the original CBS forums – especially one in particular who helped with more specific details than she'll ever know

As the semi-trailer barreled down the road, Ziva glanced over at Damon. He'd been extremely talkative earlier – asking questions and nudging at her to open up and reveal personal details that her team wasn't even aware of. The heavy handed attention he consistently showered on her was becoming bothersome. Granted she'd encouraged it at first, hoping to have a useful tool to stoke the jealous possessiveness she was certain lurked inside of Tony. But he hadn't risen to the bait as she had expected. She wasn't entirely sure what was going on there and being the only two people in the cab hadn't left much time for thought as she had expected.

She was restless and felt way out of her element on this assignment. Werth's continued and growing interest wasn't as enjoyable as it was in the office since she was sensing that it was more than what she'd first thought. The man had held her attention more when he'd been a Marine. After all Gibbs had been one – scratch that, to hear him talk, one was always a Marine. She didn't get that. It was a service branch yet he seemed to think it was as important as one's nationality. She sighed quietly, deciding it didn't matter. The most important things to her were getting Tony to realize how he had to feel and keeping favor with Gibbs, no matter what the cost. Werth was obviously someone who was on Gibbs' personal radar. However the man was now a _truck driver_ and that just didn't fit with Ziva's mental image of who should be by her side.

Ziva was pulled from her musings as Damon once again tried to engage her in conversation.

"Nice having someone alongside to talk to – even if this isn't a real run. Sometimes it gets so quiet in here that I start conversations with random drivers."

While Ziva wasn't surprised that Werth at times got lonely, she was shocked at the thought of him just conversing over the radio. "So you really understand that lingo then?"

"Translated it for you, didn't I? You know….I bet if you spent a week or so on the road, you'd pick it up like that." He snapped his fingers and Ziva flinched, instantly embarrassed to find herself startled at the sudden movement.

Werth slowed the big rig as he worked on tapping a message to the agents who were trailing him while trying not to acknowledge the jumpiness of the woman sitting next to him. He glanced over at her and was again taken by her physical beauty. But now he was pulled in by the broken spirit he sensed beneath the hard, professional mask she usually wore. He knew this was a woman who longed to be cared for, loved and held, kept safe. He also knew that no matter how much he wanted to be that special person in her life she would never really give him that chance. Her heart belonged to someone he knew did not return her feelings and that made him sad for her and sad for himself as well. He had a feeling that the two of them would be really good together if she would ever give them a chance.

He eased the rig near one of the diesel pumps and watched as Ziva soon occupied herself with the arrival of Gibbs and Fornell. Pumping the fuel, he carefully kept his back to the agents as he struggled to control the laugh that simmered within. They were bickering like an old married couple and definitely drawing attention to themselves. He heard Gibbs wander off, ostensibly to meet up with Ziva. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Fornell's brief bow when Ziva moved by him and bit his lip to contain the smile. Not for the first time he wished that he hadn't messed up his military file. Maybe instead of being relegated to brute for hire positions or his current position, he could have qualified for a chance to become an agent. Briefly wondering if there was any chance that Gibbs could pull enough strings for him the way they were getting pulled for Ziva, he put the thought out of his head as he noticed their contacts exchanging small talk with Gibbs and Fornell.

Back on the road, Damon remained quiet, thinking about differences in his life versus the lives that Gibbs and his agents led. The only time he spoke was to correct Ziva when she disconnected a transmission from McGee.

"But he said 'over', Damon!"

"CB lingo, remember, Ziva? That's where you were supposed to respond."

"Argh! English is so very confusing!"

The 53' trailer placed carefully across the road, Damon and Ziva opted to remain in the tractor. Somewhere behind them, hopefully in place were Tony and Tim in the van and Gibbs and Fornell in the Dodge. Werth felt the nervousness grow in his stomach and glanced over at Ziva, silently wondering about the calm in her expression.

"They are in position, Damon. You need to have faith in this plan and the outcome."

"Oh I trust Gibbs. That bearded guy with him is something else though. There's the truck."

As the two watched the truck roll closer, it suddenly jack-knifed. Both Ziva and Damon jumped from the tractor running to stand in the road. The truck screeched closer to their trailer as the driver fought to stop the big rig, air brakes screaming in protest. As if fascinated by the noise, Ziva took several steps forward, bringing her closer to the oncoming truck. Damon reached out, intent on pulling her back.

"Ziva!"

Adrenaline building and rushing through her veins, Ziva inched her way further away from Damon's trailer. Proving her superiority over others – both animate & inanimate beings – was what gave her such intense pleasure of late. While she understood that she in no way could stop the speeding rig by herself, she *needed* to experience the rush that would happen when the driver finally managed to stop his vehicle only inches from where she stood. That rush was what helped her function on a daily basis. It worried her therapist at one point but Ziva had learned to downplay her need and the effects. She knew she'd picked up some good advice from the therapist, but he didn't understand that this hunger inside of her had nothing to do with her experiences in Somalia. It was far more basic than that.

Damon called her name again and again, his voice growing frantic as the tractor barreled closer, the driver still struggling to stop the rig. At the last possible second, and with a long, loud noise from the air brakes and the trailer swinging around nearly running perpendicular to the tractor, the big rig skidding and screeched to a stop. Damon and his rig were safe; Ziva however hadn't made any effort to move in time and had been flattened by the tractor's huge tires.

As the noise slowly faded, Damon became aware of people running all around and a voice that almost seemed to be yelling in his ear, asking if he was alright. Turning his head, he saw DiNozzo next to him with McGee close by. He blinked slowly then remembered what he'd been involved in.

"ZIVA!" He turned to look over where the truck had skidded to a stop.

"Damon! Damon, look at me. Do not look over there; look at me now, Corporal!"

Ingrained behavior causes Werth to snap back around and face the two agents.

"Not in the Marines anymore, Sir."

"Not according to our boss. But anyway, it's over, Werth, you did good."

"Ziva…."

Off in the distance, Damon noticed Gibbs and that bearded guy leading Szwed and Lucas over to several black sedans that appeared to have just arrived, both men in handcuffs. The truck driver was pacing back and forth nearby, clearly rattled and upset. Standing nearby was a man with a dark jacket with writing on his back on. Then he noticed a van pull up close to the rig, angling so that it blocked the view of most of the people milling around.

"_Damon_, there was nothing you could have done that would have changed the outcomes here today, got it?"

Werth looked over at the older agent. He'd never seen DiNozzo look as stern and professional as he looked at the moment. Suddenly, he realized exactly what had happened that DiNozzo was referring to and found himself weak-kneed and very tired.

"Damon, listen to me! There was nothing else you could have done here. You did fine."

Tony waited til the other man's eyes met his and he saw at least a semblance of belief in them before turning him over to McGee with instructions to find Werth a ride home.

Darkness had fallen on the Alphabet City by the time the team had wrapped up the details of the official case and dealt with the tragic final events. Vance had given Gibbs, Tony and McGee the next several days off and had included orders to not return until each had met with the agency therapist as per department regulations. The team's final reports had been written and filed; Devosier and Szwed had both been turned over to the FBI on scene even though Heatherton had been military. Werth had been sent home and even Fornell had agreed that the man was in no shape to give a statement and probably wouldn't be for several days. Tony had promised him to pull a few strings to see if he could secure a job after he arrived in Ohio. The bullpen was silent and dark as the team scattered.

McGee followed DiNozzo to his apartment, still slightly surprised to having agreed to meet up there. Abby was joining them as well but had needed to properly shut down her 'babies' first. As he drove the younger agent wondered how to broach a possibly sensitive subject to the senior field agent. He'd guessed at a few things at the start of their case but Tony simply wasn't acting the way he should have been if McGee's assumptions were correct. Yet Tony on a good day was often hard to get a direct answer from.

McGee slowed to a stop as the traffic light turned red; glaring at the sports car in front of him that had sailed through on the yellow light. Just then his phone beeped. He cringed briefly until he realized it was only a text message. He picked it up and touched the screen to display the message.

_From: Tony_

_Mind out of gutter, Probie. There was never anything between me & Ziva – especially anything between the sheets. & since you got stuck by that red light, you can stop and get the beer._

Back at NCIS, Ducky was just finishing locking up the morgue and getting his coat and hat when he paused as he moved by the wall of refrigerated units. He sighed heavily, words not coming for the first time in a long time. Lingering, though a possibility this time unlike the last time they'd lost someone close, wasn't something he particularly *wanted* to do. But there were little distractions in his now quiet house. Jimmy rushed from the office, anxious to leave. He was meeting a friend for a combination dinner/study session. Seeing Ducky just standing there stopped him and he quickly rethought his plans for the evening. He grabbed his phone to send a quick text message as he spoke.

":Dr. Mallard, I am glad you're still here. I've reached a particularly difficult section in my blood analysis class and compounding that with an important exam in my gastroentology class day after tomorrow…anyway, I'm finding myself a bit overwhelmed and was wondering if you'd allow me to impose on you. For the cost of a meal, of course."

"Mister Palmer, are you asking me if I'd help you study tonight?"

Jimmy shrank back a bit as he realized how silly the request had been. It was all he could quickly think of though when he saw the older doctor looking sadder and almost lost – something Jimmy didn't recall seeing often.

"You know, it was a dumb idea so just…"

"It was a splendid Idea and I know just the place – great food, lighting that would be conducive to your studies…"

Abby settled herself comfortably on Tony's large couch, the warmth of the bodies of two of her best friends pressing against her. She'd been shocked and grief-stricken when Gibbs had walked into her lab and told her about Ziva. Her immediate reaction had been to reach out to her silver fox but he'd insisted that he was fine. She'd wanted to sink into her own quiet place but Tony hadn't let her, insisting that both she and McGee join him for pizza, beer and movies. Tony had been right. Being together with most of her guys was much better than hiding in the dark stillness of her lab. She sprang up straighter suddenly and turned on McGee, slapping him on the arm.

"Hey! What was that for, Abby?"

"For thinking that there could be anything sexual going on between Tony and Ziva! Tony's got far better taste than to ever hook up with someone who physically assaulted him!"

McGee gaped, surprised that she knew and shocked at what she had said. "Assaulted? When? How?"

Tony leaned forward and put his bottle on the coffee table. He looked quizzically at Abby, wondering when and how she'd heard about it. Abby whirled around at his movement and tapped him on the arm as well.

"And that's for not trusting your friends with the truth, Anthony DiNozzo!"

Gibbs sat in the quiet basement contemplating what to do. He definitely didn't feel the rage that he'd felt when Kate had been killed or the soul deep sadness and hurt when Jenny had died and he'd thought Tony had been blown up. He was upset about Ziva's action and highly disappointed in her yet it didn't leave him floundering as some might have expected. His head turned upward as he heard footsteps moving towards the stairs.

"I swear one of these days someone's going to sneak in here and blow your head off."

"Not if they walk as heavy as you, Tobias."

Gibbs eyed the paper bags in Fornell's hands before bluntly asking why he was there.

"Kid's with her mother and you know I hate eating alone, Jethro."

Fornell opened the bags, handing a large, steaming cup to Gibbs as well as small white containers.

"No chopsticks?"

"What'd I look like? Your manservant?"

"Grumpy old man doesn't even begin to describe you."

"You know what they say – misery loves company."

"Speak for yourself. Told you before I was a happy guy."

"Really, Jethro?" Fornell stared over his carton of food as he shoveled it into his mouth in between trading barbs with Gibbs. He'd come over because he was frankly worried about him as well as the rest of the team.

"Not happy with today's events, Tobias. Not gonna lie about it….but overall we've been lucky of late. So I guess we mighta been due for something."

Gibbs grabbed his bottle of bourbon and poured a measure into both coffee cups. "Now are ya gonna psycho-analyze me and save me the trip to the agency shrink or are we gonna eat & drink?"

"Make that appointment cuz there ain't enough hours in my life to attempt to figure you out."

Raising their cups, the two men silently toasted each other as well as so many other things and people. Fornell glanced around the basement before picking up his carton of food and a fork. Gibbs appeared less tense and looser than when he'd first descended the stairs. A few more barbs, some coffee and bourbon and all would be better.

Gibbs put the cup down and resumed eating, remembering that he'd only eaten a slim jim earlier and was now starving. He'd call the therapist in the morning and block out three back to back time slots so that his team could go together.

"Hey Tobias, anyone ever tell you about what Ziva did to DiNozzo in Israel?"


	7. Chapter 7

AN: wishful spoilers ahead….also many thanks to those who have liked these 'glimpses' enough to review/favorite/alert or in some cases contact me with ideas. Also please note that the perp in this story is in no way representative of any norm. he's a complete work of fiction and a means to the ultimate end of all of these entries. Word of warning - this is absolutely not my favorite one but it's where the muse was going. Now on we go:

Hiding in the shadows as the small squadron of guards walked by, the dark cloaked man eyed them with interest. He pondered the thought of adding them to his growing list of accomplishments – his gift to his god in an attempt to rid his homeland of the foreigners as well as to win himself favor in the next life. He watched carefully as he fingered the small grenade in his palm, calculating how close he'd have to get to them as well as the amount of damage his weapon could incur. He was just about to step out into light when a large jeep lumbered up near the squadron, braking swiftly to a stop. Keeping himself mostly concealed, he eyed the four people who disembarked from the vehicle, quietly cursing in his native tongue. *More* Americans to defile his homeland! His finger itched to pull the pin on the grenade and fling it, killing them all – the four soldiers in the squadron, the three men who had stepped from the vehicle along with a smaller, dark-haired woman. A woman! She flaunted his beliefs by openly wearing pants and having nothing covering her face or hair. He needed to hide his eyes to save his soul.

Wary of their surroundings, Gibbs motioned his team and the soldiers greeting them back towards the relative safety of the compound. He would have preferred to come by himself – putting only his own life at risk. His team, as always, had other ideas. Right even though DiNozzo had been, Gibbs still didn't have to like having them all in a war zone. He was more determined than ever to protect them in these surroundings, to make sure that they'd all be boarding the return flight with him. Tony had already been to Iraq as the lead in a mission, yet he hadn't experienced combat in the same sense that Gibbs had. McGee was still innocent in every way possible despite years of field agent experience and Gibbs would prefer to keep him that way. He knew he could count on Tony to help protect McGee. He only needed to phrase the request in a way that didn't clue Tony in to the idea that Gibbs was protecting him as well. Ziva was another story completely. Her familiarity with the land and vast experience with Mossad had made her ideal to accompany him. Yet he knew too well that it was her experience that was as much of a detriment as a skill. Her tendency to get over-confident and not listen to Tony when he stepped up as Gibbs's senior field agent was more than simply annoying. But there was no convincing her at times that Tony knew more than she did and Gibbs was certain that what made Ziva so unique would also lead to her death.

"McGee, get yourself set up as best you can once we're settled. I'll need whatever info you can find!"

"Yes, Boss!" McGee glanced around, still awed and more than a bit excited to find himself finally overseas. He kept the expression on his face carefully controlled though so as not to attract to much attention from Tony. The last thing he wanted was to become the target of the other man's teasing. He silently groaned as a shadow fell across the light that had nearly been blinding him.

"Pretty impressive at first glance, isn't it, Tim?" Tony carried on as if he didn't expect an answer. "You & I are going to have to work together here, Probie. Unless of course the only part of this trip you plan on being in on involves staring at your laptop."

"What do you mean, Tony?"

"You know Gibbs, Probie! He'll want to keep as many of us snug as bugs on that base – completely sheltered from the big bad war zone out here. Stick with me, Tim, and I'll make sure we both stay fully involved."

McGee glanced a bit warily at the senior field agent, wondering what the man was really planning before giving a brief nod of the head.

A small part inside Tony relaxed when he caught the barely there reaction. He had McGee right where he needed him to be able to protect the younger agent. Gibbs, though, would be harder to rein in. Tony would have to think a while on that before he came up with a strategy for approaching his boss.

Gibbs eyed his two agents as they walked ahead of him, wondering what DiNozzo was plotting. He found it odd that it appeared that Tony was including the other agent in his plans. He made a mental note to ask him about it as soon as they were safely inside the base.

Ziva strode confidently near Gibbs's side. Her weapon hugged her waist and she had backup weapons strapped to each ankle. She was well aware of the dangers her mere presence presented but also had a great deal of confidence in her skills. Danger had lurked at nearly every corner of her life since she was a little girl. It hadn't defeated her yet and she knew it wouldn't get her in the barren land this time. She reached a finger up to the Star of David that sat at the base of her throat and ran it lightly over the symbol of her faith and heritage. It probably had not been wise to even bring the necklace with her much less to be wearing it so openly but it was an important part of her and not something she preferred to take off no matter how logical the reason.

Rahmeen watched the small group carefully. _This_ was a group that needed to die if he was going to draw attention to their cause and mission. He'd have to think carefully to come up with a device and opportunity that would accomplish his goal. He stare at the two younger men before dismissing them. They would die but would just be part of the body count. His true target, he believed, would be the older, silver-haired man…Suddenly he spotted the young woman toying with something around her neck. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to look more blatantly and prayed he'd be forgiven for eyeing an unveiled woman. His eyes grew wide as he realized what he was staring at and his teeth ground together in frustration and outrage. A Star of David pendant! How dare she! Focus shifted from man to woman, Rahmeen knew that she was the one who needed to die and quickly. The dirt of his country needed to moistened by her blood!

Bloodlust surged in his ears blocking out all sound. Rahmeen stared at the grenade in his palm and calculated his ability to pull the pin and get it close enough to her. The pin slipped from its place and fell to the ground. He looked up, a calmness filling him as his vision honed in on his singular target.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs lengthened his stride a little to catch up with his two agents.

"Boss!" Unconsciously straightening his posture, Tony's response was ingrained after over a decade of working with Gibbs.

"What was that exchange with McGee about earlier?"

Tony silently exhaled, thankful that he didn't have to attempt to lie to Gibbs. He stopped and turned to face the other man. "Just trying to keep the Probie safe, Gibbs. Being that we're in a war over here and all that jazz."

Tony turned his bright, million-dollar smile on fully knowing that Gibbs would see through it and him easily. But if he hadn't then the boss would really have been suspicious and that was something Tony couldn't have. He wanted Gibbs to stay focused on their case so that he could worry about protecting the team.

"Make sure you take some time to watch *your* six, DiNozzo. Don't need you getting blown up over here." Gibbs turned before Tony could make the reply he'd normally make. "And Ziva, once we get inside the base you take that necklace off and put it somewhere safe. It might be important to you but wearing it here wasn't the best idea."

Gibbs turned and began moving again before Ziva could reply. He glanced over and glared at Tony, knowing the senior field agent was ready to make a remark.

Rahmeen eyed them carefully as they walked past the alcove he'd hidden in. The bloodlust thrummed in his veins, fueling an adrenaline rush and a calmness. He knew what he had to do and when he had to do it. Moving out of the alcove, screaming curses at the foreigners, he grabbed Ziva around the throat, ripping the necklace from her and entwining it around his fingers. He spat on the pendant as he threw the grenade to the ground. The small explosion kicked up a dust cloud that hid him and Ziva from the others as they went down.

As the dust settled, three sig saurers were pointed at empty space before the dust settled. With two bodies on the ground, the small squadron that had preceding them backtracked, their own weapons drawn as they carefully eyed the area for more combatants. Gibbs, Tony and McGee approached both bodies carefully. Tony and McGee moved to the man, nudging his limbs with their feet to make sure he wasn't going to come up with another weapon. Tony bent down to feel for a pulse as McGee continued to aim his weapon at the still figure.

"He's dead. Gibbs?"

Gibbs had knelt by Ziva, keeping his head down. He knew she was dead from the force of the explosion but checked anyway just to prolong conveying the news to his two other agents. Wordlessly, he shook his head and then reached over, picking up the necklace that should never have made the trip and should be listed as the cause of the death.


	8. Chapter 8

**STOP!**

_AN: This little tidbit utilizes creative license in that it is assumed that the vehicle we saw in Shalom (Ziva's Mini) could function as either or hard top (for DC winters) or a convertible (in the summer)_

Ziva slammed the door to her Mini Cooper and thrust the key into the ignition, alternately aggravated with herself for treating her car in such a manner and frustrated with how her weekend had gone as well as how late she was now running. First nearly her entire Saturday had been wasted as she'd been forced to attend a STOP class. She hadn't seen the point of it - the information and 'lessons' had been things she'd endured when she'd first obtained her driver's license. But, as the man who had helped her sign up had oh so patiently explained, taking the class was the only way to ensure that the speeding ticket she had received was not on her permanent record. She really shouldn't have been eligible for the class since she'd been clocked at double the speed limit but the man had been entranced by her and had let that detail slide when processing her paperwork.

She screeched onto the entrance ramp for I95, going far too fast for the morning commute. But she knew if she did not speed she would most certainly be late and with Gibbs back as team leader, it was something she could ill-afford. He did not give her as much leeway as Tony had but then Gibbs was a far better supervisor than the other man would ever hope to become in her opinion.

As she merged with traffic, horns going off around her, she let her hair fly free, happy that it was a beautiful morning and she was able to enjoy driving with her top down. Soon she was only about a mile from her exit when suddenly she only saw brake lights in front of her. She downshifted quickly, silently apologizing to her baby for the rough drop in speed as she slowed to quickly apply her brake, coming probably too close to the shiny, dark blue VW in front of her. She smoothly slid her gearshift into park, letting her foot slip off the brake while her left foot remained close by her clutch.

The morning breeze whipped around the stopped traffic and Ziva wrinkled her nose at the foul odor that assaulted her senses. Squinting despite the dark glasses that covered her eyes, she glared at the garbage truck ahead of the blue car. "It must have just come from Tony's apartment to smell as bad as it does," she muttered.

Ziva glanced impatiently at the clock on her dash. If this mess did not unclog soon, she would definitely be late. She raised her sunglasses enough to see more clearly as she searched around her for the cause of the standstill. Unable to see anything, she used the lever to raise the steering wheel a little so she could see over the top of her car and hopefully ascertain the cause of her delay before she called Gibbs to let him know of her issue. He would be mad but with any luck Tony would do something idiotically normal and it would take the pressure off her issue.

As he sped down I95, Samuel spent his morning drive on the phone, rearranging his schedule to suit his last minute plans. Waiting for his call to be answered, he smiled at the way his new Hummer ate up the road. It would serve him well when he had to make trips up and down the coast. Plus the interior suited his large frame and made him look better than he normally did. He'd considered the purchase money well spent for the image it allowed him to present alone.

He heard his call being picked up and immediately began speaking before his assistant could finish her standard greeting. Giving his schedule changes and other directives to her, Samuel glanced down at the list propped up on the dash next to the mount for his phone to see who he needed to call next. When he looked at the road, he cursed as he was suddenly faced with rows of brake lights and traffic that was backed up in all the lanes. Slamming his brakes on as fast as he could, he glanced around him and knew the slower moving traffic around him would make it impossible for him to change lanes to avoid the inevitable rear-end accident he was about to cause. Samuel closed his eyes as his beautiful vehicle connected with the back end of the tiny Mini-Cooper in front of him.

Ziva had just decided to make the dreaded phone call to Gibbs when she felt her car shudder. Before she knew what was happening she was flying through the air, over the top of the car in front of her and landing with a thud on very warm and rather smelly metal. Dazed and already sore from her sudden flight and hard landing, she blinked her eyes and realized she'd been lucky to have landed in the back end of the garbage truck that had been in front of the Volkswagen. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and craned her head to get a look at her beloved car. She spied the large Hummer behind it and gathered herself, allowing her temper to simmer to a slow boil as she thought about the verbal tongue-lashing she would administer as soon as she got out of the awful smelling truck.

Tom sat hunched over the steering wheel of the truck and stared dismally out at the sea of cars, brake lights all glowing. He really wanted the shift to be over already so he could go home and take more over the counter cold pills. The head cold that had plagued him all weekend was making him feel even more miserable than a normal Monday. Of course the two young 'uns that were crowded onto the seat with him didn't help with their endless chatter and ants-in-the-pants squirming. He shot them both a glare that they were oblivious to as they chattered about their fun and the girls they had nearly picked up while they partied their weekends away.

"What's that? Hey Tom! Did ya hear that?"

"Can't hear anything over you two yapping like you are."

"I heard it too. Tom, it sound like somethin' slipped in back."

"I didn't hear anything."

"That cuz ya sick! Ya shoulda stayed home! I'm telling ya…"

"Fine! If it'll shut you two pups up…" Tom slammed his palm on the large button on the dashboard, activating the panel that scooped trash further back into the truck as well as held it in place until he heard the motor activate and the creak of the gears as the whatever had somehow slipped free was scooped back up with the rest of the trash.

Ziva was just about to sit up and get out of the filth and stench as fast as she could when suddenly she heard a rumble. The large door came out and towards her before she could move. She was quickly and efficiently shoved to the back of the truck, mixed in with the foulest of smelling trash.

The loud noise of the garbage truck caused the young girl to look up from her phone. She watched in horror, frozen, as the door scooped up and pushed back what looked like a person. She had to have been hallucinating. Not sure what had happened, she sat there, stunned and unable to move as the traffic in front of her began to inch forward slowly. Traffic jam finally breaking up, the vehicles slowly sped up, leaving the scene of the minor accident behind them. The garbage truck changed lanes at it sped off, turning onto the next exit headed for the incinerator to dump its load.


End file.
